


Bridging the Gap

by Allerleirauh



Category: 13th Warrior (1999)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allerleirauh/pseuds/Allerleirauh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a long journey to the North.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridging the Gap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninurta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ninurta).



> written for smallfandomfest, FEST11

In the beginning it is simple lust. It's the tickle of the exotic, the awakening of his hunter's instincts and the will to make a conquest, to claim a trophy. He watches the Arab as they start on their journey to the North. He observes him closely.

This man from the South is strange and alien and oh so very alluring. There's his dark skin and soulful eyes, his odd manners and long and flowing clothes. His caliph has sent him as a messenger he says, an ambassador and an instructor about the ways of his people and his god. Instead he is forced into accompanying Buliwyf and his men on a hero's mission, to travel with him to aid and support Rothgar against the nameless terror that threatens his people.

He is insecure and gloomy initially. He's not a warrior. Through his interpreter and before their departure he has told them so again and again. Therefore Bulliwyf's men now treat him more like a charm of luck than a man of equal standing.

***

Herger has always taken pride in being a man of easy companionship. He _wants_ that Arab, and he is sure he will get what he wants - it might take some time but that's something he'll have in abundance on their journey.

At first there's only the rudimentary Latin he has at his command. Yet he makes the best of it in winning the Arab's trust. It's given tentatively, but the reality - that he's the only man who can talk with Eban as they call him - is a truth that can't be denied.

To convey his interest and express his desires - for that he doesn't need a shared language, at least not a spoken one. It's a game of looks and touches, of small gestures, and he is a master in playing it. It's much more graceful than stammered words too.

Eban catches on very fast. In the early days his reluctance is obvious, his refusal of the seduction, but it doesn't take long until he cautiously responds in kind. Herger believes that it's the loneliness combined with the thrilling awareness of being coveted and the same lure of the exotic that makes the Arab change his mind.

For a delightful couple of days they dance around each other. It's a drawing of ever-tightening circles on Herger's part. He feels like the wolf who is moving in on his prey. It's Eban however who is commanding the speed of his advances, on whose tacit approval this moving in takes place.

***

In the end their first encounter is a pleasurable if decidedly frenzied affair that happens in the woods one night with the camp nearby and the rest of their company asleep. They are so wound up by then, so eager that there's little patience involved.

It's too cold to shed their clothes and with the ground wet from the continuous rains of the day all Herger can think of is to shove Eban against a large tree.

They're clumsy in their haste as they fumble with fastenings and then it's only a matter of minutes. Mouths are sought out and teeth click together and after far too few rough strokes on straining flesh it's over. Leaning against one another they struggle to catch their breath, light-headed from the rush.

***

In the following days their dance reaches a new quality. Before, it was a cautious negotiation of interests and intents, now it's a game of open dares and challenges. It's exciting and makes Herger's pulse race every so often. He finds himself completely unable to take his eyes off the Arab.

***

Their second encounter takes place in an abandoned shed. It doesn't offer any comfort but is at least effective in hiding them from prying eyes. Herger plans for a more leisurely reprisal of their first time, only to find himself pinned to a slightly unstable wall.

He has no time though to wonder about his loss of control. "Let me," Ahmed whispers softly against his ear while he unfastens Herger's leggings and then Ahmed is kneeling in front of him and taking him.

This is too good to be true, better than any of his daydreams he thinks, and he comes far too soon. He's not good for anything afterwards but Ahmed doesn't seem to mind. He gets to his feet and undoing his own trousers pushes up against Herger, rubbing against him while he bites at his neck. He's anything but gentle. He's demanding and forceful until he finds his own release.

Even in his sated and drowsy state Herger is amused by the clash of images Ahmed's actions bring forth in his mind. Like Loki the shape-shifting jotun Ahmed suddenly is both: the cultured and effeminate alien ambassador and this passionate and entrancing creature that has him completely under his spell.

***

By now the others of their company are aware of their trysts, of the way they have pulled together. There is jest and mockery in abundance but no real disapproval. For some reason Ahmed seems to have expected it and he's baffled to learn otherwise and greatly relieved too.

The last part of the journey they spend on the sea. It's a succession of days that pass in forced chastity. The rough weather and the small boat leave them no room for anything more than to huddle together, but in all fairness neither of them has the spirit for anything more.

***

Reaching Rothgar's lands and settlement holds all the more promise. It's one evening between fights when Ahmed leans close to him as they sit at one of the tables in Rothgar's great hall. "Find something suitable to use," he whispers in his soft lilting voice that's made all the more alluring because of its heavy accent, "I'm sure you know what I mean."

Their gazes lock and to his dying day, Herger will claim that it was at that moment that his Arab stole a piece of his heart - a piece that Herger has never been able to get back.

Finally he is allowed to claim his prize. He feels strung tight as a bow. He relishes every sensation, every touch and sound and smell. The way Ahmed's body moves beneath and around him, how he arches his back at every deep thrust. It's a consummation of body and soul - it's perfect bliss and he wants it to go on forever.

***

Their good-bye is bitter-sweet. They stand on the shores of the Volga as Ahmed hands him the sword he crafted. "For Rethel's daughter," he says and they both laugh at the memory. One embrace - hard and fast - and Ahmed is boarding the ship that will take him South and home. It's with joyful waves and wishes of safe journey that they finally part.

Afterwards Herger stands on the shore and looks after the vanishing ship. And even as the last glimpse of sail gets swallowed by the curve of the river and the surrounding forest, he remains - keeping his vigil just for a little while longer.

END


End file.
